Ten Years
by Lady Of Embers
Summary: The ten years' elapse when Sparrow goes to the Spire, in which Marine grows up  and falls in love  and also makes several life-choices.
1. Chapter 1

First Year

Marine watched, her blue eyes huge, as Sparrow left her weapons and items behind with Hammer, before stepping onto the ship and waving goodbye. She turned to Hammer and looked at her.

"Is Sparrow gone forever?" She asked. Hammer shook her head at the child's innocence.

"Thank the Light, no. Just a little while. She just needs to find Garth, see." Hammer explained, and Marine pouted.

"But I want her back!"

"So do I, and she's barely been gone five minutes. I have a bad feeling about this." Hammer said, sighing. Theresa appeared, and put her hand on Marine's shoulder.

"Marine, you will return with Hammer. Hammer, you are to teach Marine the ways of the warrior." Theresa ordered.

"Me? I don't even have any special tactics! You saw me, Marine, I just go charging around bashing peoples' heads in." Hammer retorted, surprised.

"Fine. Then, if you won't, I'll find someone who will. Marine, come." Marine put her hand into Theresa's, and they wandered away.

They got back to Bowerstone, and Theresa turned to Marine.

"Until Sparrow returns, Marine, you're going to enrol in guard school." Theresa ordered, and led Marine to the nearest guards.

"Gentlemen, you have a new recruit." She said, and gestured towards Marine. The guards raised their eyebrows but said nothing. Then one of them cleared his throat.

"I suppose you want us to train her." Theresa inclined her head.

"Much appreciated. Her mentor has gone into the Spire and she hasn't got any other friends." She explained. Marine toed the ground nervously. The guards gave her a once over, then nodded.

"She'll do."

Marine entered the guard school, took one look at it and grinned. It was filled with swords, tactics and specialised trainers. This was going to be fun. Although, Sparrow would probably get back next month and spoil her fun. She shrugged and swept her gaze down the weapons, before being dragged into the training ground with the other recruits-all teenage boys-and made to exercise until her bones ached.

She tumbled into her bed at about 10 PM before waking up sharply at 6 the next morning. From there, they had a light breakfast, and then a jog round Bower Lake. The next thing was vigorous polishing of the older officers' weapons, boots and other various items. She shined until her hand ached, then they were made to swim fifty lengths of the lake. After the swimming came lunch. They set to work building and repairing the gypsy camp. There was a lot of work to be done. They were attacked by bandits on their way back to the compound, and the older men dealt with them. Then some officers went to clear out Thag's camp. When Marine tumbled into her bed again, 16 hours after exiting it, she decided that she was going to enjoy this thing even if she ended up dying young from lack of physical endurance, exhaustion and malnourishment. Ah, her life seemed to be going well so far.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Year**

There was no denying that the idea that Sparrow would be back in a month was now a little more than a fantasy. Marine, eight, felt the long hair down her back with a sigh.

Theresa had passed through once, informing Marine that Sparrow's trip to the Spire was going to take a while. This was no comfort to Marine, who had taken to writing a journal simply to talk to _someone_, and she felt pessimistic about her chances. She missed her almost daily, but there was so much routine it only came to her at night.

Their day began at six in the morning and ended at ten in the evening. HHaHHhhh

They polished, marched, swam, paraded and exercised until their bodies cried for respite. In almost a year, Marine's body had toughened from the squats and sit-ups she was made to do.

Hammer had passed through several times each month, bringing fresh laundry, tales from the outside world and extra rations. Marine turned out to be an excellent cook for an eight-year-old and mostly made dinner.

What she learned from Hammer, who had become a bounty hunter, was that the Temple of Shadows had been completely broken up, what with Cornelius Grim dead, and Oakfield had begun to expand a little, building more houses and tilling more fields. Hammer went to the Temple of Light every month to pay her respects to her father, though she'd heard rumours of an island plagued by perpetual winter and ruled by a greedy chieftain. As she put it-

"There's this place that's got some fella or other who's being greedy and taxing the people and stuff. Bloody nutter if you ask me."

Hammer never stayed long, and anyway, she wouldn't have been Marine's ideal choice of chat companion anyway. She didn't listen like Sparrow did.

It was one morning, as she was shining General Lance's shoes, that a guard led a brown-eyed and brown-haired boy her age into the scullery.

"Ms Marine, this is Richard. He's the General's son, so be nice." He said, and left them alone together.

"Serving in the army?" She asked, working away at the boots.

"Of course not, peasant." Said the boy snobbishly. Marine put down the shoes and the motion caught his eye.

"I see you're shining father's shoes. How very appropriate for a girl in the gutter." Marine stood up and fixed him with a glare.

"Open your mouth again, snob, and there'll be a gaping hole in between those pretty teeth of yours." She threatened. The boy sniffed.

"Of course, how plebeian of you to resort to violence."

"Plebeian? My best friend is working in the Spire right now, trying to help people!"

"I suppose _he's_ a misguided oaf like you, too." He said, sniffing again. Marine clenched a fist.

"_She_ is the one who defeated the Crucible, _kiddo_, and she's not misguided. She's beautiful and kind, and I miss her." She hissed. He quirked an eyebrow, uninterested. This was too much for Marine. To insult her friend, then not apologise?

Two minutes later, the little boy ran out the room crying with the finest pair of black eyes you've seen, and several missing teeth.


	3. Chapter 3

Third Year

Marine itched at her rough clothes and ran a hand over her hair, sighing. She was now nine. Sparrow's venture into the Spire seemed to be taking forever. Now when Hammer visited, she also brought Marine notepads-one for every month-and took the used ones back to the little house she owned in Oakfield. She never read them; she believed it was unfair to invade in one's privacy, no matter how riveting a read it might have been.

As Marine scrubbed once again at the boots-the General hadn't forgiven her for duffing up his boy and therefore had tried to make her life hell-she wondered what life would be like if she quit now. Well, she'd prove Rick right, for one thing. When he'd come back with daddy to inspect the guards, he'd bet her that she couldn't hold out for the whole five years. The forfeit was whatever happened to be lying around each other's homes that belonged to said tenant and they quite liked the look of, and there was no way he was getting his grubby mitts on her journal. Because of this, Marine was determined to prove that she was good enough. She was better than that wimpy little snob any day, and she was more than happy to prove it. That boy couldn't take a few hits without blubbering like a big baby. Marine had already been in several scraps with Sparrow's enemies on her travels.

There was a knock, and Rick entered, looking disdainful.

"Oh, it's you. If I'd known, I would've just barged straight in, but, see, father always advised me to be polite and _knock_. I suppose your daddy never taught you to do that." Marine couldn't stop the one tear that escaped and plopped onto the floor with a splash.

"Oh, of course not. Your daddy hasn't got any manners. Probably sleeps in a pig sty at night, along with any other siblings you've got. Bet your mother's a who-" Marine's fist connected with his face. As he sprawled in the dirt, she stood over him, a raging female Ares with boot polish in her hand and fury in her clear blue eyes.

"Don't. You. DARE. Talk. About. My. Parents. That. Way." She hissed, Rick sat up, looking at her smugly.

"Why, because it's true?" Her foot happened to catch his shin rather hard.

"My parents were farmers!"

"WERE farmers? What are they now? Beggars? Tinkers? Mudlarks? Nothing that should interest me, I suppose." He said smirking. Marine refused to stop her tears this time. Because now she had something better than her fist to hit him with, something that would pierce deeper than her nails and hit harder than her fists. Guilt.

"Richard George Lance, my parents are dead." She said, and pulled him to his feet before sitting back on her stool, turning away from him and continuing to polish his father's boots. There was a stunned silence. She heard him walk to the door. Then she heard something amazing, just as she began to wonder why she hadn't heard him leave the room yet.

"I'm sorry." He said, and walked out, closing the door behind him.

"And that is why you enquire before mockery." Marine said miserably. She took one look at the boot polish and burst into tears, thoroughly cleaning the boots and soaking herself right through at the same time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fourth Year**

Marine watched, excited, as the new General, Beckett, raised his hands to salute his men (and women.) The ten-year-old was bursting with joy. Finally, a new general, one who _wouldn't_ be mad at her for attacking his extremely provoking son and making his 'perfect' skin bruise. _Perfect skin my arse_, she thought rudely, as the old general stepped up to talk to the new. He whispered something, then inclined his head towards the guards. Beckett quirked an eyebrow, almost as though amused, then shook Lord Lance's hand, ruffled Rick's hair and saluted once again to the guards. The deafening cheers and salutes stimulated Marine's adrenaline, and she was smiling and laughing all the way back to the boot room.

Half an hour later, General Beckett entered. He cleared his throat, before looking down at the little girl. She stood up, saluted, then bowed and looked up at him expectantly.

"Marine, is it?" She nodded. "Marine, Lord Lance tells me that you've been attacking his son. Is that true?"

"I had a reason!" She blurted out. Beckett smiled.

"I am sure you did. That's what I came to ask you about. Why did you do it?"

"He insulted my family, sir."

"And your family is?"

"Dead, sir. All dead. He said my father shared a room with a pigsty and mother was a whore." Marine replied. Beckett looked distressed.

"I'm sure they weren't." He said finally.

"They were farmers, sir. Slavers burnt my house, killed my parents, and were taking my brother and I to Westcliff when they encountered Sparrow." Marine's face turned dreamy.

"Sparrow?"

"The first female to conquer the Crucible, sir. She's gone to the Spire on private business."

"And your brother?"

"Shot by the slavers when they escaped." Beckett nodded.

"Thankyou, Marine. I'll go and speak to Lord Lance." He turned to go. "Oh, and Marine?" She smiled at him, waiting. "When you hit, drive the power up from your stomach. It's a beautiful sensation, trust me." Marine grinned.

"Yessir." She said, nodded, and sat down. Beckett smiled at the girl, then turned around again and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Marine couldn't contain her joy. She was free from the shackles of Lance's prejudice, and hopefully Rick would be made to keep away from her now. Annoying whelp. She scrubbed at the boots almost cheerfully now, confident that this was her last boot-scrubbing time for a while. She hadn't been training for a few days, due to Lance's determination to keep her from having fun, and she was looking forward to going back with the other guards and training. They had been using guns lately, she'd heard. She grinned.

Marine was going to show them exactly what Sparrow had taught her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fifth year (end of)**

Medals gleaming on chests. The proud looks of every guard. The grin of an excited twelve-year-old, and the plentiful surly looks from another. Beckett raised his gun. The guards fired their volleys into the sky. Hammer, watching the ceremony, and extremely happy, was not the only one with her eyes fixed on the pretty girl with the blonde hair. Hiding in the shadows behind Hammer was Theresa, smiling, her blind eyes seeing, yet not seeing, and viewing the future. Marine's future was brightly coloured. Destined to relate to royalty, through a grandchild, and with a slight shade of red in her spirit. Theresa did not know what to make of the red, and decided to investigate.

At the celebration party, Marine was hanging around with Theresa and Hammer when Rick appeared. He'd grown a bit, thickened out a bit and grown his hair slightly, but he was still the same snobby boy she'd given a beating to in the boot room. Twice.

"Listen, Marine, old girl. I'm dreadfully sorry about…you know, what I said and all. Can we put it behind us?"

Marine's reply came with a fist that winded him completely. As he, once again, sprawled on the ground, holding his stomach, she shrugged.

"Yeah, I suppose we could put it behind us." She decided, and walked back to Hammer, a slight swagger in her step.

Marine knocked on the doors of the Lance mansion and stepped in. Rick was waiting, still holding his stomach.

"Just so you know," he hissed, "I think you broke a rib." Marine looked startled.

"Golly, that whole 'drive your strength from your stomach' thing really worked then." She commented. She waltzed into his room and looked around. There were some really nice things. She quite liked the look of one of his rapiers, so she picked it up. It was perfect.

"Yeah, that." She also selected the complete works of Meredith Sock, a nice pair of boots, two of his most expensive hats and his favourite trousers.

"I'm done." She announced, and disappeared out the door. Rick looked round his room, gave a self-deriding sigh and sunk to the floor. She'd won the bet and robbed him of some good items. Damn her for being so stubborn. He knew Beckett would have called it 'strength of character', favouring that blonde girl as he did, the bizarre, one-sided man. But as his father said-

"There's no point coating a bitter pill in sugar. Stubborn is as stubborn is called." And that term applied fairly well to Ms. Marine, she of the blonde hair and the strong fists. He felt the cracked rib and vowed to get even.

Marine walked jauntily out the house and skipped over to Hammer.

"Come on, Hannah." She said, as she did occasionally.

"Let's go-maybe we can make it to Oakfield for breakfast tomorrow."

So saying, the two set off in the direction of Old Town, Marine wielding her new rapier, hat, trousers and boots, and Hammer reading 'Cold Lips' as they walked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sixth Year**

Marine, thirteen, had been told by Hammer that she was now old enough to start wandering around the regions from Oakfield to Bowerstone alone, but not beyond Bowerstone. This caused Marine to get annoyed, but arguing with Hammer got her nowhere, and so she grudgingly agreed to go no further than Bowerstone.

So Marine was making her way from Rookridge to Bowerstone Old Town. Her blonde hair, her greatest asset, was buried under a hat with which she kept it safe from fire, errant sword thrusts and-sigh-young men. They had suddenly developed a keen interest in her.

Which was why it came to no surprise that six teenage boys jumped down from the trees and came to land in front of her. One of them even appeared to have brains.

"Ello darlin'." He leered.

"And your name is?" She asked coldly.

"Rex 'the Butter' Chalmers. You might've heard of me dad, Nicky 'the Nickname' Chalmers. Nice bloke, good fella. Taught me ev'ryfin I knows." He said.

"But obviously not the power of proper Albion." Marine pointed out, hand straying to her sword.

"Yeah, yeah, suffer 'n' die 'n' stuff, blondie!"

Marine's retort to this comment was a stinging slap with the flat of the blade across Rex's face. He whimpered, and when he spotted the fierce gleam in her eyes he whimpered even further.

"Stop playing with fire, kiddies, before you burn your hands." She warned. The boys took off towards Old Town, Rex shooting glares at her every so often. She shrugged and continued to walk on. These bandits were rubbish with their insults. I mean, blondie? How very retro.

In Bowerstone, she enquired as to who Rex was. When she mentioned him, the guards perked up.

"We've been after him for years. Thanks for the tip-off, Marine. Do you want to come with us when we arrest him?" One asked. She nodded.

"Oh, and Richard Lance will be joining us. He's done a year of training, see." Another explained. The words 'oh bloody Skorm' ran through Marine's head before Rick came round the corner. She scowled at him and he scowled back.

"The plebeian joins us." He said loftily. She smirked.

"Hey, Ricky, remember what happened last time you called me a plebeian? Remember those beautiful black eyes?" She jogged his memory slightly. He flushed, but said nothing, and glared at her as they headed over to Old Town. She grinned back triumphant.

The arrest went pleasantly well, and, when she got £2500 gold in beans for helping, it was then that Marine (though largely mocked by Rick, who called her a desperate peasant) decided to become a bounty hunter.

The next few months were as pleasant as they got.

Running around North Albion killing evil things suited Marine's idea of fun, and before long she and Hammer-who pulled pints at the Sandgoose-were fairly well off.

Occasionally, Theresa popped in, showing sights of Sparrow's 'heroic and mighty return.' Marine shrugged, saying 'we all knew it was coming anyway, didn't we?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Seventh Year**

Fourteen was Marine's landmark.

It was the year she began _noticing_.

So, while it made her uncomfortable, she soon realised that she was about to have the world at her feet.

She learned, as girls do, that the simple act of dressing could change the way a man viewed one. For example, dressing like a hobo attracted unwanted attention, and dressing like a high-born lady made people act respectful towards you.

All but one, the ever-annoying Richard Lance.

It was one day, deep into August, that she decided she might actually hate him. She was killing Hobbes in Rookridge when a carriage went past and splattered her with mud. She didn't shriek, as an average girl would, but calmly ran towards the carriage, climbed onto the side and broke the back-right wheel, forcing the horses to stop. The occupants got out the carriage, and she soon wished she'd left well alone. It was General Lance and his snobby son.

"See here, girl, I know you! You've always had it in for us, and now you're trying to kill us." Rick folded his arms and looked at her. He had the winning ground and she knew it.

"Well, perhaps you should apologise for trying to drown me with mud." She replied.

"I see no difference between the mud and your clothes, girl. Stop being ridiculous. If you'd been important, we would've apologised and carried on. But now you've spoiled the day. Goodbye, plebeian." So saying, the driver refitted the wheel and the general climbed back in. Rick smiled at her smugly. Then he looked thoughtful.

"If I don't see you again this year, it will be too soon." He said eventually, and, before he climbed into the carriage, he mocked her again.

"Is it true that you aren't allowed to go past Bowerstone? Because I was in Brightwood the other day, talking to Giles, and _he_ said that you hadn't been around for _ages_. Is it true?" Marine glared at him.

"So it _is _true!" He crowed, and smirked.

He stuck his tongue out at her and they drove off. Marine fumed silently, before running to the nearest pool, diving in and cleaning her clothes.

The bloody cheek of that upstart _snob_! He was a pest, an idiot and a brainless, heartless Hobbe. He seemed to think it his prerogative to insult her at every chance he got. Well, if that was the case, then next time she was walking away before he could utter a word. And boys of his bloodline were supposed to be gentlemen! Gentlemen? HAH! Seth had been more of a gentleman, and he had been _five_. Rick had nothing on her dear brother, _nothing whatsoever_. No manners. No sense of 'there's a time and a place.' Not even that darned attractive, so what he was doing strutting around Albion like a cock was quite beyond her.

The bloody cheek of him!


	8. Chapter 8

**Eighth Year**

If someone had drawn her a list of the boys she might fall for, she would have put Rick last on it. He was rude, obnoxious, stupid and unkind. He had no place in a world of much nicer people.

It had been eight years since Sparrow had left.

Marine was fifteen now. She didn't miss her so much.

Marine's favourite region, even now that she was allowed out to Brightwood, was definitely Rookridge. The continuously rainy place held a certain charm. She didn't know why, it just attracted her somehow. The windswept landscape, the rugged cliffs…all attractive. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The hat, discarded, wouldn't have covered the three feet of soft, cascading golden-blonde hair that grew from Marine's scalp anyway.

She always wondered how Sparrow was getting on. What were they forcing her to do? Had she met anyone more humane? Was there a man? And where was Garth? She knew that none of her questions could be answered, but she needed to ask them anyway.

As she leant against a rock, three bandits appeared and encircled her.

"We knows who you is." Said one threateningly.

"So why aren't you running?" She asked innocently, drawing her katana.

The fight began. They were much wilier than the ordinary bandits. After five minutes, she'd only killed one.

Then her foot got caught in a rabbit hole, and she went over. The bandits laughed as they began to tie her feet together. She flailed with her katana but it was no use. So when the sound of a gunshot echoed through Rookridge and the second bandit fell dead, she looked up to find its source. A hooded figure, standing by a rocky outcrop. They-he-jumped down and shot the second bandit, before shooting the bonds off her legs and helping her up. She collapsed into him.

"Woah there, girlie." He said.

"Your voice is familiar." Marine told him. She pulled the hood down, blushed, and backed away.

"Rick!" She gasped.

"Hey there, Marine." He said, grinning. She scowled, turned around, and began walking away. Rick jogged to her, circling his arms around her.

"Hey now, where's my Thankyou kiss?" He asked. She pushed him away.

"Seven years of verbal abuse and you want me to do _what_?" She asked incredulously. Rick shrugged.

"Can't we stick that behind us? I was young and stupid. These days I have brain cells-and eyes." He added, winking at her.

"Yeah, and pretty soon they'll be as black as they were when you were seven." She muttered, beginning to walk away. Rick grabbed her.

"Honestly, you women can't take a joke. You won't at least _thank _me for sparing you from something nasty?" He asked. She moaned and turned around.

"Alright, whatever. Richard Lance, Thankyou for s-"

The rest of her words were cut off as Rick kissed her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, trying to get him to stop, but that wasn't the message conveyed. She pushed him off. He stumbled back a little, smiling.

"And you were enjoying that." He pointed out.

"What? No! I was _trying_ to get you to stop." She hissed. Rick grinned.

"Yup. Okay. Please yourself. When are you next free?" He asked. She blushed.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, dear Marine. I am so sorry. I want to know when you're available for a date." He explained.

"With you? Never!"

"Okay, fine. See you around." So saying, he pulled his hood up and walked off, leaving Marine a little confused.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ninth Year**

Marine travelled down from Bowerstone to Brightwood. Giles' farm was being remade and she'd been employed to help keep the bandits away.

As she neared the farm, there were sounds of gunfire. Six bandits were attacking. She sneaked up behind them and killed them. The other guards looked quite pleased.

"Ello, Ms Marine." They acknowledged, and she grinned.

"Lads."

As darkness fell, the bandits closed in, huge numbers of them. Marine grabbed her katana and prepared to fight.

It began. She cut through a couple of tens of bandits. They were fast and strong, and it was difficult for her to keep up. Eventually, one of them smacked her round the head and she was knocked out.

When she came to, her hands were tied to a post behind her back. She looked out, dazed, as she realised she was in Ripper's old camp. The décor hadn't improved since nine years ago, as she saw. She shifted, and they noticed.

"Ere, she's awake!" They cheered. One bandit kept his eyes off her, looking down at the ground. She wondered why.

"Listen, darlin', first, yer gunna be a little bit of fun. Then, yer gunna be a bargaining tool. Then yer gunna die, kay?" A bandit shoved his face into hers.

"Piss off." She muttered. He laughed.

"You'll be screaming that in agony later." She watched the bandit who had his eyes to the floor flinch. He was probably new to this. They spent the evening drinking. The silent bandit refilled their tankards, and she noticed her added something. Eventually, they seemed to succumb to drink, and went to noisy sleep.

Later, the same bandit who had instructed her as to her uses came over, reeling drunk.

"Lishen, I'm sorta hammered, soze we'sh gonna poshtpone thish lil' session tiw' later, aright?" So saying, he collapsed next to her. The silent bandit stood up, and Marine froze with fear, screwing her eyes tight. _Please make it painless, please_, she prayed. _This is my virginity we're talking about here, please make it painless_! But instead of doing what she feared, she felt a pair of warm hands on her face, and soon someone was kissing her with a very familiar technique. She opened her eyes and found herself staring back into Rick's brown ones. He stopped kissing her, then leant back and winked.

"So, about that date." He said after a while.

"I didn't envision it in a bandit camp." She replied. He raised an eyebrow.

"So you gave it some thought?" He said. She nodded, sighing. He grinned.

"Fantastic. Listen, Marine, I'm sorry I was an arse, but I was really young, okay?" She said nothing for a while. Then-

"This is the second time you've saved me." She commented.

"Yes. It is." He replied thoughtfully.

"Now, could you untie me?" Rick looked even more thoughtful.

"Maybe."

"Rick!"

"Sorry, but…how do I say this? You're too hot to handle. Metaphorically speaking." He added, and slid a hand over her collarbone, then to her shoulder and down her left side to her thighs. The result was a little noise from Marine and a grin from Rick. And then a glare from Marine. Rick cut the ropes and Marine stood up, glowering at him.

"Don't ever make me that powerless again. Do you know how unpleasant that feels?" She asked. Rick shrugged and slid his hands around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her. She put her arms around him and pulled a little. They stayed that way for a while until Marine broke it off.

"Sorry, are you sure you're that piece of Hobbe dung that I beat up twice in the boot room? Because you appear to have manners." Marine told him. Rick leant down slightly and licked her lower lip.

"Maybe." He traced a line of kisses down from her neck to her collar, before moving up again and burying his face in her hair. She sighed, contented.

"Maybe we should…get back. Before they wake up." He murmured. He took her hand and they walked out the gate, back to Giles' farm.

It was an unlikely romance, but it was going to work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Tenth Year**

Marine gave little thought to Sparrow. She gave little thought to anyone but Rick. Hammer spent her days in the various taverns, trying to glean news of the potential 'number three' Hero. The Hero of Skill. He was apparently hedonistic and evil, with a twisted past behind him. Which was _just_ what she needed. She had been dating Rick for a year. Marine was lucky that Rick was a gentleman, otherwise they would have gotten frisky already. Instead, he took her home to re-meet his family, and the general's favourite comment was 'I should have seen this coming.' It was one they heard often when she went round for dinner.

The year passed uneventfully, until, finally, Theresa called her to Oakfield, and told her to wait on the docks with Rin, Sparrow's dog, who had stayed with Hammer during those ten years.

When a bald Spire Guard and an old, dark-skinned man stepped off the boat, Marine took one look at Sparrow and handed her what she needed-a hairdressing card. With her hair restored, the two women sat down, and, over a juice, talked until their jaws wanted to call it a day. They had so much to talk about. Bob, Sparrow's only friend in the Spire, the escape, the Commandant, the slave collars, the starving slaves, and the fact that time had not been kind to Lucien, something that she was glad of. The amazing architecture of the Spire. And Marine had a lot too. Rick, training, life, how Rin had been, guarding Giles' farm…they'd both had some great adventures. And now they were going to have some greater ones. It was time to get the third and final Hero.


End file.
